Castles
by youknowitsmsrae
Summary: Jace's internal musings for when he first met his brave, special, strange, stupid little mundane at Pandemonium on the night that started it all. CoB. K for mild violence.


**CASTLES  
youknowitsmsrae**

* * *

_QS: Short one-shot on Jace's thoughts in Pandemonium, the first time he met Clary._

* * *

_You took me there and laid me on a broken bed.  
**No air**, and there were cobwebs falling in my hair.  
**I swear, I would have died for you.**_

_But you** left me there**, then all the **memories** came crashing down.  
The insecurities by which **you're bound**.  
**But still, I would have died for you.**  
_

* * *

Jace Lightwood wasn't a _huge _fan of most soap operas, Spanish or not, nor soft movies, romance infested TV shows - no, nothing of the sort. Even some books were distasteful to his direct appeal as they followed the most predictable, boring, soppy plot. He found that they simply just went _on _and _on _about some miraculous first meeting where the lights all dim between the two lovers, and hearts stop (or speed up, in some cases). Instant feelings are felt and the character's can just 'tell' they'll be happy and together forever. Depending on the director, station or plot, they might even burst into song, or have sex with their eyes right there in public.

No, he wasn't a fan of that at all. In fact, the funniest thing happen when Isabelle had her movie nights: he came down with the strangest of illness's that required him to be anywhere but in the Institute (if he'd been anywhere inside, she'd grab one of her many feather boas, and surely would have tied him in a chair until Titanic, A Walk to Remember, or some other genre of the same, was over; then came the part where he would be forced to swim out of her tears).

However, even if he was no fan of the Hollywood Glam, the lies spilled, it didn't mean he couldn't appreciate this moment.

She'd stepped out of nowhere, as if that wasn't enough to throw his heart on a wire and fizz it up a couple hundred watts. Not, of course, that he'd ever admit she'd taken him off guard as much as she had. The Great Jace Wayland, practically the most skilled and able Shadowhunter since who knows when, warrior and charming young fellow with a handsome face, body and sarcastic attitude, didn't _get_ flustered.

But, if he was going to give her any credit, not many mundanes could surprise 3 Shadowhunters that crowded a tied down demon, already programmed for staying on the lookout.

Yet, there she was, shaking with the impaling New York cold, or maybe fear, withering in her in spot like a wilting, heaving flower, watching him, his sister, his brother, the demon, it didn't matter who. Her expression was clear: she gazed upon them as if they were all crazy. 100% bonkers, out of their mind, loony bin ready to go. As if realizing this, her face turned red as a tomato from her brash actions, or perhaps she was going to vomit. He couldn't tell as he twisted his weapon around in his grip as easy as threading his fingers through air.

He saw no Shadowhunter marks, so she wasn't one of them. There were no demonic eyes however, nor fae wings, fangs of bloodsuckers, tails, spikes, scales, claws; not even weapons. She was just...her. Human. Mundane. Dressed up in damp, casual clothing despite the atmosphere outside the back room, half sticking to her from the muggy air, and wide, green eyes.

And for a long moment, he was taken aback again as he gazed at the little green orbs that blinked back.

Human. Human. _Human. _A simple _human. _A simple _human _could see _them. _Stupid little mundane. How was this possible? When their glamour was so strong, the demon practically invisible if the thing wanted to be; no, she saw them as if clear as day, if not more. She was _analyzing _them, even, the nerve, eyes drinking in his family, and this enemy stranger, him.

Oh, and she was talking too, wonderful.

He seemed to speak back, something about her being a liar and police. Some conscious part of him was still being a cocky jerk he knew and loved.

But the other part was more than intrigued, despite how he also felt bitter. The demon gently tucked away and forgotten for a couple seconds, just a couple as he let himself think, he followed his gaze from her red curls that timbered and turned around her face, to her little pointed chin and shallow cheeks. He watched her awkward, almost defensive pose, then again, he meant defensive as in 'oh my God, they have weapons and chains and he's perfect so I'm just going to stand here and try to hold my own', or course. What else would she be thinking?

And then the demon was loose, and he had to snap back into warrior mode. Somewhere off, he heard Isabelle yelp his name, he felt a bit of pain, but it was only until after the thing was slain beneath him did he realize his heart had actually reached a high rate, and his eyes had trained back on the girl who was trying to make a run for it.

Confusion lit inside of him. No, she couldn't just _leave. _He had to know more about her first. How she could see him, them. He'd just started to wonder what that human would think of his tenancies of killing things, not that she should. She shouldn't care; he was doing this for her - wait, no all humans. All of the realms. Not just her.

Yet he was worried for her as well. Stupid mundane. What was she thinking, coming back here when they were obviously dealing with something much bigger than her?

The human was obviously frightened now, especially when Isabelle's whip coiled around her arm. And she shouldn't be frightened. She could have been, should have been, but not now. Not of him. She'd been a brave mundane then, stupid, but brave.

Then she was gone, that dweeb pulling her along, a security guard hovering just as close.

And he realized it was just her who was blessed with the Sight.

Only she could see him, no one else.

She was _human._

But she was a special human.

And even later that evening, he could still feel his heartbeat moving just a bit faster than normal when he decided he would talk with Hodge about looking into the mundane in the morning.

Stupid mundane.

Brave, special, strange, but stupid mundane none the less.


End file.
